Promises of Return
by Mariyekos
Summary: Originally for Xanlow Week 2016, day 4 prompt "Return." Birthright spoilers. The Hoshidans are approaching after several reports of bloody battles and Nohrian losses, and Xander tells Laslow to return to the castle while he waits for signs of Corrin's army. Laslow does, and comes to regret it once Corrin passes on to the throne room, Xander nowhere in sight.


**Author's note: I only did days 1 and 4 of Xanlow 2016, and this was pretty rushed when I first posted it (on time, on the actual day 4 of Xanlow week). I'll post day 1 soon, and so this is a bit late, but here. Enjoy.**

* * *

"Laslow. Return to the castle." Xander's voice was grave as he looked ahead at the horizon, Hoshidan troops surely close to coming into his view.

For weeks they had been receiving word of Hoshidan victories, of Corrin's troops slashing through their own on a path of utter destruction. Despite the supposedly peace-loving country's claims of trying to end the war with the least bloodshed possible, bodies littered the streets and landscape of Nohr, most all clad in blacks and purples instead of reds and whites. The situation was becoming worse and worse. At the rate things were happening, hopes of Nohr prevailing in the war were dying out quickly.

Over the last few days, word of death and destruction had been coming into the castle non-stop. Garon hardly spoke to his children anymore, mad with something no one quite understood, but he had given his orders.

Protect the castle.

Even if it means giving up your life.

Laslow would have screamed at the man if it hadn't been for Xander clamping an armored hand over his mouth the moment Garon finished giving his orders. The prince whispered a few words at his retainer to quiet Laslow, and then promised his father to do his best, walking out of the room. Peri cheerfully asked if that meant she was free to kill as many people as she wanted, jumping with joy when Xander said yes. Laslow said nothing, trailing slightly behind both his silent lord and excited partner.

Camilla was sulking and injured from her last battle with Corrin. Leo had gone off to fight, and had yet to return. Elise was young, and though she could wield a tome, was a soft hearted healer at her core. So only Xander was left, looking out for the march that would signal either their upcoming deaths, or hard fought, casualty heavy, victory.

"No, milord. I will not leave your side as long as my heart still beats in my chest and blood still flows through my body." The reply from Laslow was firm, and he would not budge.

He had already lost Selena, and possibly Odin since word of his and Leo's status had not yet come.

He would not lose another.

"Laslow, this is not an option. This is an order. If you do not, then trust me, I will cripple you to get you inside. The healers will not be pleased with having to use valuable energy from themselves and their staves to fix you, but they will if you don't turn around and enter the castle in the next thirty seconds. You know where to go." Xander's voice was even firmer, and Laslow had tears in his eyes. What if Xander didn't make it back to him? What if the Hoshidans snuck up on Xander while the prince stood alone outside, and…

"Laslow. Look at me," Xander breathed, turning to face the gray haired man. "I promise you, I will not abandon you. I will return to your side shortly. Just… give me a moment. Now go. I will not tell you again."

As Xander's sentence drew to a close, so did his face draw closer to Laslow's, his lips ghosting on top of those beneath him.

Then he looked back out at the horizon. Waiting for the Hoshidans. Waiting for death, whether it be his own, or that of the general he once called his younger sibling.

* * *

The sounds of swords and katana, daggers and shuriken, tomes and scrolls, and all kinds of fighting filled the halls and rooms of the castle's interior. It hadn't exactly been the surprise attack Laslow had imagined, but it certainly arrived faster than otherwise. He and Peri were at opposite ends of where they held guard, Xander somewhere in the middle. Elise had rushed by earlier. Why, Laslow knew not. But for whatever reason, he felt like his inaction had brought into motion things that he would deeply regret.

Currently, he was facing off against a masked ninja. One of Prince Ryoma's retainers if his memory served. The two were fighting, and Laslow was losing. Badly.

A young girl with brown hair and freckles had come through earlier, slicing up his calf with her naginata. It had longer reach than the lances he was used to, and he wasn't able to get away fast enough. He had managed to hit back though, and now there was a smear of red against the west wall, her crumpled body lying underneath. Lasow could still see the rise and fall of her chest though, so at least he hadn't killed her.

Even in his third war, he couldn't stand taking another's life. He could keep up a devious grin throughout the battle, joke around after, and deflect any questions about his well-being for a while, but in the end he was always the same. Sobbing in his room, feeling like a dirty murderer who had stolen the lives of the innocent. Growing up, his parents were his most beloved people. Receiving word of their deaths crushed him. He had nightmares almost every time he slept for weeks, and they still came back to him all too often for a few months. Even in Nohr he had the occasional dream about his parents' corpses. He supposed he'd have them for the rest of his life.

One day Xander had walked in on Laslow's tear soaked face; on his shaky voice, made hoarse by what seemed like hours of crying; on his red, red hands, made raw from harsh rubbing in an attempt to wash of the blood that never seemed to go away. The prince sat with him, silent, as Laslow gripped Xander's shirt and wet it with the water streaming from his face, hiccuping and wrinkling the fabric with his grip. Xander never pushed him to reveal what it was that made Laslow such a mess.

After the third time Xander came, rubbing circles on his back and long fingers through his hair, Laslow told him. Xander had such a sad but understanding look on his face.

"I admire you, you know," the prince had said, "for being so freely able to express your emotions. I fear mine have long dried up. I only wish I could be as honest as you are."

With a small kiss to the top of Laslow's head, Xander took his leave.

In his own world, Laslow had grown up with his family, his parents twenty years his senior, so any deaths that occurred in the battles following the first war his parents fought in were lost to him. He couldn't be sad, he couldn't have nightmares, because he was too young to know the people.

In this world, they had deeprealms. It was entirely plausible that this brown haired girl had fully grown children who would mourn her and seek Laslow's death. He didn't want to put anyone else through it. But every time a battle arose, he fought, and he stained his hands even redder. It was a fact of life.

His guilt crept up his legs and arms, slowly entangling them until he felt he could hardly move. Three shuriken pierced his side, and Laslow fell to the floor, feeling the burn from the poison they were coated with leech away at his health.

The ninja stepped over him, holding something silver and shiny in his hand that was blurred by the tears welling up in Laslow's eyes. He had failed. He had failed, and now he was going to die. He had failed, and now he would never see Lord Xander again; now Xander wouldn't see his return.

Then, Corrin came through, calling the ninja over to join her trail of soldiers. The members of the Hoshidan royal family and their retainers trailed the one time Nohrian. The ninja picked up the unconscious girl with brown hair, and went with them, leaving Laslow alone.

The building was silent once the sound of the Hoshidans' footsteps faded. Grabbing the naginata left behind when its wielder was carried away by the masked ninja, Laslow used it as a crutch. He limped across the building, searching every hall, every room for a sign of Xander. And then, he found him.

Resting against a doorframe, covered in blood and eyes closed, was the crown prince of Nohr. He wasn't moving, and unlike with the brown haired girl, Laslow couldn't see his chest rise at all.

"Oh god… Lord Xander! Xander! Please oh please say something! Please…" Laslow rushed to the man as fast as he could, ignoring the pain in his calf and the ache in his side from where the shuriken had hit him.

Xander's eyes fluttered open, and he looked at Laslow. The wine red orbs were partially glazed over, and they looked so tired. So, so tired.

"Laslow. I…" Xander was struggling to breathe. He must have been stabbed through the lung, if his rasping breaths and pierced armor were any indication. "I'm sorry."

Laslow blinked.

"M-milord, what…?"

"I'm sorry. I promised… that I would return… that I would return to your side. But it seems… that I could not. Instead, you… have returned to mine… even when I said… not to," he choked, a faint smile gracing his bloodstained lips. "But I… can't be mad at you… for that. Thank you… for coming to me now… I could not ask… for a better man at my side… as I met my death…"

Xander's hand weakly gripped Laslow's, which was resting on the prince's lap, and his smile widened ever so slightly. Then his grip slacked, and Laslow's vision blurred. There was a creeping pool of blood beneath them. He was going numb. His heart was dead. His love was dead. His will to live…

The world began to spin. And Laslow fell over into Xander's arms. He had been bleeding for far too long. And it seemed that for the final battle, the Hoshidans had gone all out. Instead of using the weak poisons that sapped a small amount of health from whoever they made contact with, they had used their best. With how toxic the coating of the weapons were, even one would probably have been sufficient to take Laslow out with how heavy his wounds were. Three was just overkill.

"Xander," Laslow whispered with the last of his breath, "I've never wanted to die, and I still don't. But I'm glad that I could do it here, in your arms. I know you can't hear me anymore, but I want you to know, I love you. And don't worry about not returning to me. Because I'm about to return to you yet again. Maybe now I can finally introduce you to my parents…"

Laslow let himself relax, and could have sworn he heard a deep chuckle, a warm hand on his back, and long fingers in his hair as the world turned dark for the last time.

* * *

 **Author's note: Fun fact, Laslow and I share a birthday. I've also married Xander. So what do you know, in my world Xander's married 2 people with August 7th birthdays (on that note I've also married Laslow, so we'd have a double birthday). If any of you have read my ongoing story, Rebirths and Revelations, you know I had a 3,000 or so word chapter about Xander and Elise, ending with a sweet scene between the former and Laslow. This is why. They're one of my favorite FE ships, actually, and my favorite Fates ship for sure. I can't wait until NoA translates the DLC so we can get some more interactions! Anyway, thank you for reading, and I'll try to have the next chapter of R &R out by Saturday (14 days after the last, so following schedule).**

 **1,823 words without AN.**

 **Eruran out.**


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